


Without Hope, Without Strength

by Wolf_At_Heart



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Discrimination, Its possible, POV Change, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Racism, Reader deals with anti-monsters in a unique way, Slightly suggestive, idk - Freeform, might become a multi-chapter fic?, not really tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-15 09:09:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12318003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolf_At_Heart/pseuds/Wolf_At_Heart
Summary: and yet... still okay.





	Without Hope, Without Strength

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been messing with me for too long, I had to get it down.

He could almost _feel_ the dimness seeping into his soul, could almost feel everything that gave him hope, made him keep going, slipping away with the countless jeers and taunts and “accidental” shoves in passing. Not to imply that that was all that’d been thrown at him by humans since the monster’s reunion with the surface and it’s inhabitants, for the simple fact that this man was a monster. 

Honestly, Sans couldn’t even bring himself to care about what exactly they were saying. At some point, it had all begun to blur together into senseless noise, save for the few words he still heard, conveniently the words that gave it all the harshness that was draining Sans’ spirit. 

“...freak...”

“...not welcome...”

“...don’t belong…”

“...strange…”

“...unnatural…”

“...disgusting…”

“...should just die…”

He simply lay there, dark, empty, hopeless sockets staring up at the blue sky. One of many things that monster kind had so fervently fought for, only for the amazing beauty of it to be overridden by the cruel racism of the ones that had become numb to all those little things that they had and that monsters so desperately craved. 

Sans knew that they were still kicking him, hurling insults at the skeletal monster who had been shoved to the ground minutes ago. He knew he should’ve been and felt hurt. He knew that some sign of pain should’ve come from him; yelps, whimpers, flinching, maybe even tears. He knew that he wasn’t. He knew he’d become so numb that, no matter how much force they used, he’d never really feel it again. And that if he somehow did, it wouldn’t be for a very, very long time. 

What he didn’t know or expect, however, was for them to abruptly stop. Sans wasn’t expecting what had caused them to stop, either. 

A sing-song voice. _That’s odd…_ He hadn’t seen a female in the group… Granted, judging by what she said, “Hey there…” she probably just showed up. 

Curiosity struck the little skeleton, and he turned his (likely damaged in some way) skull towards the newcomer. Who knew? Maybe she would be his… knight in shining armor? More accurately, his maiden in… barely anything… Holy _shit_ , why did humans even _make_ shorts that short? 

To be more descriptive about his potential savor, she was a young human woman clad in a tanktop and shorts that went down to maybe her mid-thighs. Her attire and the sweat evident on her skin, along with the fact that she was panting slightly, led Sans to believe that she had likely been jogging. 

Her sweet voice carried through the air once more. Judging by what she said, it was likely she had yet to see him. 

“Whatcha doing there, mm?” The humans who had been craning their heads over their shoulders to see her now shifted to stand by their companions, all facing the intruder with the skeleton between them and her. His assumption that she was on his side fell quickly before the expression on her face upon seeing the broken skeleton lying on the empty park path made of dirt and rocks. 

Her expression was one of hatred and contempt, clearly directed at him. The dim points that had flickered to life in his sockets faded to the point of non-existence once more right before the scowl turned into a predatory grin, not unlike the ones he knew he himself had worn in many other lifetimes. 

For some reason, however, he found himself actually tuning in to her harsh words, unlike all the others. “Well, well, well… what do we have here.” Slow, measured voice. Clipped words. It was a statement, not a question. “Another filthy thing that thinks it deserves the surface?” She had stepped closer, crouching down right by him. “Well, do you?” 

She was speaking directly to him now. He didn’t respond. She stood up again, now facing the original antagonists with an impressed look. Some coyness thrown in that expression, along with adoration and some praise in a sugar-filled voice and they were practically drooling over her. 

“Well, damn! Looks like you hurt it so bad, it can’t even answer a simple question! You boys are stronger than you look. ...not that you look that weak…” were her exact words of praise. 

“Who knows, maybe it’ll even dust! Now… we wouldn’t wanna be around when that happens, do we? Don’t want to be suspected of anything that we _clearly_ didn’t do.” She whipped around, hair twirling with the motion, and began walking away, making a ‘come hither’ motion with her finger over her shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get something to drink!” She turned ever so slightly back towards them, weight settling on one leg to make her hips stand out even more. Not that they didn’t stand out enough, with how they were and the practically non-existent cloth that served as shorts. 

A flirtatious smile graced her lips. “If you’re nice enough, one of you might even leave with my number!” They quickly followed her, leaving Sans to stand up and continue walking. He didn’t though. He couldn’t. It had finally happened. Hopelessness consumed him. 

He lay there for an indeterminable amount of time, eye sockets slowly drifting shut, wishing that his attackers _had_ done enough damage to dust him. Papyrus didn’t need him anymore. He had Undyne, and Frisk, and their other friends. And death would be so much better than a life like this. 

His despairing thoughts were broken when a shadow fell across the sliver of blinding light still visible through his closed sockets. 

______________  
**Your POV**

You jog quickly back down the dirt path, desperately hoping that skeletal monster is still there. After faking an interest in the group of men, who you had originally found ganging up on the blue-clad skeleton, for about half an hour, you made the excuse that you had to get back to your run, and, with a practiced smirk and wink, laid the fake phone number down upon the table. 

Rounding a curve, you saw the person you were searching for. You walked over to him and leaned over. He was exactly how you’d left him. Dirt ground into the sweater, a fine layer of dust (from the ground, not his body) covering his visible bones. 

You were well aware that you were blocking the sun with your hunched over form, hands resting on your knees. One hand left to offer a hand to him when his eye sockets opened, them being closed the only thing that had changed in your time with the racists. 

After a moment of you standing there, the skeleton’s eyes adjusted and you assumed he could now tell who you were. That is, if the hatred on his surprisingly expressive face had anything to say on the matter. 

“huh. thought people didn’t offer help to ‘filthy things’,” he spat at you. 

Your hand fell back to your knee, eyes averting his gaze in shame, the kind smile slipping from your face. “As hard as it may be to believe it, I really didn’t mean any of it, ok? I really, _really_ didn’t…” At his unimpressed and still very disdainful look, you sighed and continued. “Please… could we just talk about this over a drink?”

“didn’t get enough to drink with your anti-monster _pals?_ ” He still refused to look at you with anything less than complete anger. Understandably so, if you were being honest with yourself. 

“Nope. Didn’t touch a drop, actually. Had to wonder if those perverts would be able to tear their eyes away from my ass and chest long enough to notice anything else about me. So… how about this instead…. Want some food?” You smirked knowingly, “maybe… Grillby’s?”

Surprise flashed across his face. You guessed he was wondering how you managed to suggest his favourite place to go. Mentally, you answered his silent question. _I’ll give you a hint: wasn’t a guess, buddy!_

He still seemed on guard, but your genuine hopeful smile seemed to win him over, and he hesitantly took your once again offered hand. You stood up fully, pulling him to his feet with you. Now that you were both standing, you couldn’t help but notice that he was at least half a foot shorter than you. You almost could’ve mistaken him for a kid, if it weren’t for the lack of striped clothes. 

“Here, follow me. I know of a quiet place nearby where we won’t be overheard, unless we yell.” You lead him a bit farther along this path before turning onto your hidden path through the trees. When you glanced behind yourself to see if he was indeed following, you saw he was still wary of you. 

You pushed through the last section of underbrush into the sunlit clearing you had been to so many times before, skeleton still in tow. The wooden bench stood there just as it always did, swathes of moss on the old, slightly rotting structure. You invited him to sit on the bench while you reached under it for the backpack you always had hidden there. 

You pulled it out, then pulled out your disguise, taking a sip of water from your water bottle along the way. Slipping the clothes over your current attire, you watched him marvel at the serenity of your surroundings. You had to wonder if any of his thoughts were similar to the ones you had had on your first trip here. Was he also wondering how a place could be so quiet yet so full of noise and other similar things? As you pulled your hair up into a slightly messy pony tail, you asked him what he wanted you to get him from Grillby’s. 

He answered as you donned the last of your disguise. “just a burg, fries and a ketchup bottle.” Huh. Same as what you’re getting, excluding the ketchup. “although… i dunno why you’re asking, since ima be tagging along.” 

“Um, actually… I’d prefer if you stayed here.” 

“well _that_ ain’t suspicious at all,” he retorted, voice thick with sarcasm. 

“Ok, ok, now that I think about it, that really didn’t come out quite right, but still. You shouldn’t exert effort because that’ll worsen any injuries you got from them. So, please just enjoy the view for a little bit. I’ll be back real soon, ok?” You tried your best to convey that his health was your only interest, and you weren’t quite sure if you succeeded. 

Now that you had efficiently made yourself look different enough that no one would recognize you, you waved a quick goodbye to the seated skeleton before jogging away from the clearing again, towards the direction of the fire elemental’s restaurant. A short while later, and 2 burgers, 2 orders of fries, and a bottle of ketchup were being carried in bags. 

However, when you returned, you were met with an empty bench, no skeleton in sight. Your head hung as you made your way to the bench to eat alone. You sat down, talking to no one in particular, just yourself, while munching on the food. “Well… I suppose I can’t really blame him for not sticking around. I… _did_ call him a thing. A _filthy thing_ , even. No… _I’m_ the ‘filthy thing’. The filthy thing that’s so weak and afraid that it couldn’t even bring itself to legitimately save him… I… suppose technically I saved his life, though. That has to count for something, right? But… I also probably made him want to… to _end_ it even more, didn’t I?” A pathetic laugh broke from your mouth, quickly turning into a sob as tears slipped from your puffed up eyes. “Fucking _hell_ , what’s _wrong_ with me?!”

“nothing.” You jumped, completely caught off guard by the cool, laidback voice of the short skeleton coming from behind you. 

You hurriedly dried your eyes, ashamed that this stranger had seen you in your current state, eyes puffy, tear tracks staining your cheeks, self deprecating thoughts running rampant in your mind. “But… I-I thought you left! And.. ‘nothing’? There’s a shit ton of things wrong with me! _Honestly_ , I called you a… a _thing_!” Your gaze left the gently smiling face of the skeleton you had whipped around to face. Although it seemed impossible, you saw… forgiveness in the pinpoints of light that represented his pupils. 

“yeah, i was gonna leave. but you got back before i got too far. and... yeah, you called me a thing. but you also cried over calling me that, and over the potential of my death. you cried over someone who you don’t even know the name of. not to mention… ‘m preeeetty sure that people don’t cry, and hate themselves, and call themselves things because they said something rude to a ‘thing’,” he said sincerely, while rounding the bench to sit next to you. He pulled the bag of food closer to him, taking out his food and, after absolutely drowning it in ketchup (and drinking some straight from the bottle???? What the fuck?!), began eating. “however… now ya got me thinking. since you obviously didn’t actually mean this… why’d ya say it?” He looked towards you, skull tilted in curiosity. 

“Because I’m weak. And afraid. I’m afraid of actually standing up to racists, and I’m too weak to push past that fear. So instead… I fuel their hatred of monsters. Not on purpose, of course. But… it’s just so much easier for me to pretend to be on their side, to flirt them up until I can convince them to leave the monster alone, and then come back to, hopefully, apologize to the monster. It hurts think about all the monsters that no one saves.”

“And I hate that so many times I’ve been unable to apologize to the monster because they had already left. And then that makes me wonder just how often this kind of thing happens. Makes me wonder how many of your kind has died because of my own. Makes me wonder how many I _pushed closer to their breaking point._ ” Sobs wracked your body once more, tears pouring down your face. “How,” you gasped, “how much damage… have I caused…” 

A broken, laughing sob tore itself from your maw. “That… that _damn_ insatiable curiosity of mine strikes again! So many things I wonder… “ You dragged the sleeve of your sweater across your face, taking tears and smearing them along the fabric. You then continue, “I wonder about people’s desperate desire for violence. I wonder why people don’t see the similarities, why their eyes only see differences. I wonder what caused them to feel that way.”

“I wonder why some person crossing the street is dressed up. Are they going on a date? A job interview? A party? Are those the only fancy clothes they have and they just like to show them off, or are they rich enough that wearing things like that just seems normal to them? Do they struggle? Do they have people that they love? Do they get along with parents? Their siblings? Are they full of hate, or kind as hell?”

You look to your right, where the skeleton has slowed in his eating to just stare at you with a wistful expression. “And while I’m saying this all, I have to wonder how this makes you think of me. Do you think I’m one fucked up person for explaining how I think to someone I don’t even know the name of? Do you understand what I mean? Do _you_ think that way?”

Your gaze had returned to the ground in front of you, chin resting upon your knees that you had pulled up in a fetal position. Before you began again with your rhetorical questions, your eyes raised to look up at the, by now, darkening sky. The slowly falling sun rest upon the horizon beyond the trees you both were facing, and the glow turned the trees to black silhouettes standing tall against the colors dancing and changing in the sky above you. 

“I wonder those things about you, too. Why do you wear that sweater everywhere? Did someone give it to you? Is it just comfortable? Do you just have little else to wear? If it’s the last, why do you have so little? Supporting someone else? Racism making you have no job? Will people ever be accepting enough to have monsters and humans working at the same places?”

“Is it easier to just accept that it’ll never be that way? Is it better to just always give up? Do you think it’s better? Should I try?” 

You had stopped crying shortly after starting on this tangent of all these things that you were curious about, and now that your thoughts and words had stopped racing, silence hung between you two. Not the awkward kind that you get the urge to fill with anything, the tame kind that comes when there’s nothing more to say at the moment, and when that’s okay. It was broken by the deep baritone of his voice. 

“i dunno. at first, it was comfort, and the warmth of it helped me deal with the cold of the town i lived in underground. but… it’s kinda gained its own value… i don’t really have any other sweaters, but not because of a lack of money. it’s just that none of the ones i ever see seem… right. it always feels wrong somehow to imagine not wearing this old thing… i don’t have a ton of money, anyway… and most of it, i spend making sure my lil bro is happy.” A genuine smile lights up his face at the mention of his little brother. 

“i actually have several jobs. nothing special though… a hot dog stand, a security job, helping a friend with some science stuff…”

His expression turns dark. “and i don’t know if humans and monsters will ever get along. i don’t know.” 

“i know it’s easier to accept it. i know i don’t want to, and i know i shouldn’t, but… i do anyway. it’s not better to give up. still so, so much easier to do that though. you should try. both of us should. but… i get the feeling that that aint happening. for either of us. least, not anytime soon.”

The silence returned, but it didn’t seem as tame. Not awkward, but definitely not tame, like it was before. It hung heavy in the air. 

“the name’s sans.” 

“_____.” 

The unspoken truth between you two was that you both had revealed parts of yourself that few, if any, knew about. You had both bared a part of yourselves to complete strangers who you’d likely never see again. 

And somehow, that didn’t bother either of you. 

The two of you sat in a slowly taming silence, watching the last traces of the sunset, then watching the stars twinkle into existence above you. After a while, you stood up, stretching your limbs before leaving, without a word. You heard a few pops of joints behind you as Sans stood up to leave himself.


End file.
